Glimpse
by Jer2116
Summary: A pseudofuture fic which is my way of asking, why Lois instead of Chloe? NOT an antiLois story... I just happen to like Chloe better.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing Smallville, except my season 1, 2, and 4 dvd collections. Please read and review!

Historian's Note: Takes place at some point early in the 6th season.

* * *

Ok, so let's review. Two minutes ago, I woke up and for those first few brief moments before awareness kicked back in, I felt wonderful laying in a pair of strong male arms. And then it hit me.

I don't remember going to bed with...

Oh my god.

I don't remember who I'm in bed with.

Looking around doesn't help me, since I'm in my own room. It's still dark, which means whoever I'm with isn't likely to wake up any time…

He moved. It's also apparent that he isn't breathing as deeply, which means he's starting to wake up. What do I do? The last thing I remember is writing up my final draft at the Planet and then I got up from my desk and…

Nothing. I have no memory before waking up here. I wasn't drugged, or I would feel groggy, and I wasn't drinking because I never pass out, and I always have a headache the next day, so that leaves…

A flannel shirt.

Oh.

No way.

* * *

I have had this dream before. I'm a kid again, and I know nothing about Jor-El, or Krypton, or abilities. My dad's alive and we're driving around on the tractor, through the corn fields of Smallville. And in the distance is a beautiful girl. The girl of my dreams. Her flowing blonde hair makes my heart skip a…

Blonde? Wait…

I blink a few times as I wake up, trying to clear my head. Strangely, I can't remember going to sleep. The only thing I do remember is digging out a new irrigation ditch, and then…

The dream. Except I haven't had that dream since Lana and I broke up for good, and…

It wasn't Lana in the dream. It's always Lana, but this time it was…

I'm not in my room. I'm in…

Oh.

No way.

* * *

"Clark?"

"Chloe?"

"What's going on?" they both chorused, staring at each other. Chloe had turned to face Clark, but as she opened her mouth to demand some sort of explanation, something else caught her attention. For a moment, far longer than Clark had ever witnessed before, Chloe was speechless as she tried to decipher which emotion she was supposed to give priority. Finally, eyes wide, she asked a question with such quiet calm that Clark wasn't able to tell if she was angry or… intrigued.

"Is that… you?" she managed. A moment later, the meaning behind her question dawned on Clark, and he found himself scrambling away from Chloe as fast as possible without using his super-speed. Chloe allowed herself a moment to chuckle at Clark's innocent nature before sitting up. Surrounding herself with a bedsheet, toga-style, she flipped the remaining blanket onto Clark. Wrapping it around his waist, he sat up as well; obviously taking great care not to stand just yet. She could see so many emotions fighting for dominance on his face, and she watched as he took a breath and became calm.

"Did we…" Clark paused, obviously not wanting to hurt her feelings, "Do you remember how we got here?"

"No, I don't." Chloe answered, swallowing the answer to the question Clark had chosen not to ask. 'One mystery at a time' was the mantra that had become her motto in Smallville. She was about to question why neither of them could remember the previous night, her mind already discarding possible scenarios due to what she knew of Clark's abilities, when she heard the distinctive ring of her cell phone. Scrambling to find it before her voicemail kicked in, she plucked it from her desk and put it to her ear.

"Hey Chloe, how's it going?" Pete Ross's voice was on the other end of the connection.

"Pete?" Chloe nearly screeched, her voice high-pitched in amazement. She looked at Clark, whose eyes were as wide as her own. Clark pointed to his ears, signaling he could hear the conversation via his super-hearing.

"Is everything alright, Chloe?" Pete asked, an edge of concern in his voice.

"I was about to ask you the same thing, Pete. We haven't heard from you in months."

"Months? Come on, Chloe, it's not like we didn't have lunch together yesterday." Pete replied, chuckling.

"Lunch?" Chloe's head was starting to ache.

"Yeah. You know, food? We've been having lunch together every Thursday since I moved to Metropolis."

"You don't live in Metropolis, you live in Witchita."

"Chloe, I moved back from Witchita over a year ago." Pete was obviously very concerned, and Chloe was getting more confused every second, so it was a mixture of relief and suspicion that crossed her face with Pete's next question.

"Can I talk to Clark?" Clark's eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline when he 'over-heard' the question, and Chloe coughed uncomfortably.

"What makes you think Clark is here?" she asked, innocently.

"I'm at Mrs. Kent's right now, and she said Clark was planning to come and fix the tractor this morning, but he isn't here yet. We figured you two must've slept in." Chloe and Clark shared a look, and Chloe coughed again.

"We'll be there in a few minutes, Pete."

"Ok. See you soon." Pete still sounded concerned, but he hung up without asking her, again, if everything was ok. Placing her phone back on her desk, she turned to look at Clark.

"What the hell is going on here?"

* * *

Clark, due to his super-speed, was able to get ready instantly.

Chloe, on the other hand, insisted on having a shower before going anywhere, so Clark volunteered to get her a caffeine-infused breakfast from the vendor down the street while she showered.

"Double espresso, black, extra sweet." The coffee vendor, a large Italian with hints of a New York accent, recites as Clark walks up to him. "How are you this morning, Clark?" he adds, already filling the cup with a stream of steaming liquid.

"How did you know that?" Clark can't help but ask, ignoring the conversational question. The vendor laughed.

"I'm psychic, no? You've only been getting your girlfriend's coffee every Friday morning for the past year, my friend. You don't think old Tony would catch on eventually? Please. I may be old," he said with a wink, "but I'm not senile just yet, yeah?"

"Right." Clark replied, trying to sound confident. "How much?"

"Oh, same as last week, and the week before." Tony grinned, his thick brown moustache revealing sparkling teeth. When Clark hesitated, however, big Tony's grin faded. "You feeling alright, Clark? You not coming down with something, are you?" he asked.

"It's just been a weird morning." Clark shrugged. Tony seemed to buy it, and quoted the price of the coffee. After he'd paid, Clark walked away with a cup of hot coffee, and another piece to the puzzle.

* * *

As Chloe stepped out of her shower, and wrapped a fluffy white towel around herself, her mind began replaying everything she remembered from the day before, and everything she'd experienced that morning. She was so focused on trying to unravel the mystery of the moment, it took her a moment to realize something was wrong with the bathroom.

"Shaving cream, razor, extra toothbrush… he practically lives here." Chloe muttered to herself. Since she'd had major feelings for Clark for as long as she could remember, she couldn't help a slight feeling of warmth and joy that spread throughout her body as she connected the clues. She ran out of the bathroom, a smile on her face and a spring in her step, and straight towards her clothes bureau. She inhaled a quick breath, held it, and opened the drawers. All but one were her clothes. The remaining drawer had enough clothes to last two or three days if needed; all of them Clark's.

"Chloe? I'm back! Are you out of the…?" As Clark closed the apartment door and turned around to head into the apartment, he caught a quick glimpse of a towel-clad Chloe dashing for the bathroom with an armful of clothes. A mere two minutes later, he was graced with her attired presence, complete with winter stocking cap. She grinned.

"I figured my hair would get messed up on the run to Smallville anyway," she said, in answer to his quirked eyebrow, "so I may as well control it in style."

"Run?" Clark asked.

"We have to. You don't think they want to wait until lunchtime, do you? Besides, you have a fence to install!" She wisecracked, "I thought farmers were supposed to be done their chores before noon."

"You do realize I could go, finish the fence, and be back here before you made it to your car, right?" Clark teased.

"Just because you can run at Mach 3 doesn't mean I can't sprint down a flight of stairs." Chloe replied, mock indignation on her face. Clark grinned, and Chloe threw her arms around his neck. For a moment, as they gazed into each other's eyes, their thoughts echoed between them. Then they were gone.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

"Mrs. Kent, what is your secret? You've made the best apple pie I've ever tasted since I was old enough to know what pie was!" Pete Ross poured compliments on Martha as if they were going out of style.

"Oh, Pete," Martha blushed, "You always know exactly how to make a girl feel appreciated, don't you?"

"It's how I was raised, Mrs. Kent. You know better than anyone how my folks feel about paying compliments to those who deserve them." Martha was about to begin reminiscing about old times, when the kitchen's screen door creaked open. Clark and Chloe walked in, Chloe shaking her hair out of a winter cap. They both seemed a little more distant from one another than Martha had become accustomed to, and she picked up on Clark's uncertain gaze in an instant.

"Hey guys." Pete, oblivious, greeted them. He untucked his napkin from the collar of his three-piece suit, and stood up. Clark and Chloe gaped openly.

"So, uh..." Clark coughed uncomfortably, "what's going on around here?"

* * *

"Lex? Son? What are you doing in there?" Lionel Luthor called out to his son, who had been secluded in the lab he'd built within the mansion. The lock on the door was Lex's own design, and Lionel wasn't certain anyone but Lex knew how to open it. The intercom beside the door allowed two-way communication, but only if Lex was in the mood to return his father's salutations. 

"Playing the concerned father, dad? It doesn't suit you." Lex's instantaneous answer was lack-luster and a bit less biting than Lionel was expecting. Ever since Lionel had given up his tenuous connection with Jor-El, he'd cursed himself for it. Jor-El's knowleal dge had leaked through in unexpected ways, and sometimes with enough concentration Lionel had been able to access specific information. In this case, he would have found a way past Lex's locked door, and drug him out of the lab.

"Lex, you've been in there for nearly a week. Whatever you're working on will still be there after you come out to have something to eat. Keep up your strength, son!" Lionel tried to stop himself from sounding too berating, or Lex would invariably do the opposite of what his father wished. Without warning, the door slid open. Lex stood in the doorway, his smile more of a grimace. The first thing Lionel noticed, the thing his eyes were drawn to immediately, was the bright green glow around Lex's eyes, and the slightly greenish tinge to his skin.

"You don't need to worry about my strength, father. In fact, you don't need to worry about anything ever again." Lionel's final thought would remain a mystery, as his son raised a single hand to him.

Lionel was dead before he hit the floor.

* * *

I know... I know... it's taken me forever to get back into this. And this chapter's much too short. Don't worry... the next installment will be a lot sooner, and at least twice as long, ok? Now review, please. :)


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